"Hi mum," I said as I entered the living room.
"Hi Steve," my mum smiled. She was sitting on the sofa in the spacious living room, which was at the back of the single-storey house she and I lived. "How was school?" she asked.
"The usual, boring," I replied, dumping my schoolbag on the floor and kicking my trainers off. I didn't do too badly at school, and was an ace at sports, but like most fifteen-year-old boys I didn't exactly find it terribly thrilling. It was nice to be home.
My mum, Helen, was thirty-eight-years-old, and had been divorced from my dad for a decade now. She had n... Continue»